Home for the Holidays
by oh-you-pretty-things
Summary: Modern AU. Hiccstrid. After time abroad, Hiccup returns to Berk for the holidays and realizes that home is where your heart is.
1. Baby, Please Come Home

_AN: This is part 1 of a two-shot for the holidays. Enjoy and have a safe and happy holiday!_

It happened in Paris. It wasn't supposed to happen in Paris. He hadn't even seen all he'd set out to see yet, but that was _Astrid_, wasn't it? She never cared about his schedule. She never cared about following the rules. Because there were rules, weren't there? They'd _broken up_. Hiccup was supposed to be enjoying the single life, he wasn't supposed to be _comparing_ every girl's smile to hers. He wasn't supposed to be attracted to a woman because her laugh had that _Astrid_ edge to it, or because she smiled without abandon, like Astrid always had.

Hiccup had come home a full three months earlier than he had intended. He'd come back to Berk, back to his disapproving father and the small-town mentality of the village he'd grown up in. He'd come back for her. He never expected her to be _gone_. But she was. Astrid was gone. She'd left on a one month tour of England and stayed. Six months now. Six months abroad. When Hiccup thought about it, it made him angry. Really, truly angry. Because they could have gone _together_. Why hadn't they gone _together_? Why had it been a fight then? Astrid never wanted to come with him. She never showed the slightest inclination for travel and then he leaves and she just _takes off_?

If Hiccup were being honest with himself, he'd realize that he wasn't angry with her. He'd remember that he'd never asked her to come with him, he'd just decided to go and Astrid had never even been a consideration. He pushed her away and now he would never forget her face that night, the way she'd stood in his room in a pair of cut-offs and a tank top, long golden arms and legs, so many freckles on her nose, unshed tears shining over too-blue eyes. God, what an idiot he'd been. What an idiot he still was. He'd thrown her away. He'd thrown _Astrid Hofferson_ away. She hadn't just been his girlfriend, either. She was his best friend; the one person who always, always had his back. And now she was gone.

He did what anyone would do when they were alone on Christmas Eve, thinking about their ex. He opened a bottle of Jack and started going through her Facebook page. It was particularly hard because she still had all their pictures up – he did, too, but his was more from a neglectful disdain of social media, and not for any real sentimental reason. Although maybe that was a lie, a burning untruth he didn't want to face.

Hiccup didn't care what was on his Facebook page, though; he cared immensely about what was on hers. So there they were, sixteen and tiny and in love. Puppy love, his father had said. (Toothless had been offended, of course, because he'd been a puppy once and he'd never been so _stupid_.) It hadn't felt like puppy love, not to them. Not to Hiccup. Astrid was this golden goddess, this untouchable, unreachable deity who had deemed him worthy of her presence. And her opinions. And her kisses.

What the hell had happened? When had she become someone he'd taken for granted?

As he flipped through her photos – _their _photos – he could see it in his face. The way he hadn't been looking at her anymore. The way he'd been looking for _something else_. That moment when Berk wasn't enough for him. Hiccup closed the pictures and went specifically into the albums that she'd made on her trip. There was something about her in a raincoat in front of Buckingham Palace, looking uncomfortable and out of place, that made his heart ache. Her pinched smile told him that she hadn't been so sure about her decision, but she'd pushed forward with it anyway. Astrid was the most stubborn person he knew. Once she'd decided on something, there was no taking it back. She'd pretend to enjoy the entire trip if that meant no one could have the upper hand on her.

The first real smile he saw on her face was when she was standing with a dark haired girl in front of Stonehenge. It was a bright day, sun shining and blue sky visible behind the stones. Astrid had sunglasses on, but her smile was real. Wide and bright and _easy_. The next few pictures showed her with that same smile – blindingly brilliant and perfect. Hiccup found himself asking that question again – how could he have let _that_ go? It made him smile, looking at pictures of Astrid _happy_. Had she been that happy with him? He honestly couldn't remember, he'd been so wrapped up in himself at the end of their relationship. He'd been more concerned with his own needs. Had she smiled that much with him then? He didn't know.

Then a picture startled him. It made his heart jump into his throat, pounding away there and making him nauseous. Astrid was perfect – a Norse goddess in a British pub – but her hand, her hand was on a man's arm. A man's _massive_ arm. Hiccup looked for a caption to the photo, but there was none. He looked at the comments of the picture – a wildly unhelpful endeavour when he read things like Ruffnut's comment ("UPGRADE!") or Snotlout's comment ("Pfft. I can lift more than that guy. Come back to me, baby.").

Hiccup flipped forward through the pictures, his heart catching in his throat and choking him. What was this? _Who_ was this guy? His black hair was gathered in a ponytail; his smile was smug; his arm was around Astrid in such a proprietary way. Who _the hell_ did this guy think he was? And why _the hell_ was Astrid letting him get away with it? She was grinning up at him, though. Big smile, hands on his arms and chest. Astrid. His Astrid.

Not his Astrid. He'd given her up. He'd set her free.

Hiccup closed the tab hastily and frantically typed in his own name. His profile picture had been the same for months – he was smiling against a backdrop of the snowy peaks of Mount Kailash, Toothless proud in his thick winter coat, tongue lolling. A childish part of Hiccup wanted to be smug about his profile picture in Tibet, but all the smugness in the world wouldn't negate the fact that Astrid had posted pictures of herself hanging off the arm of some British thug. Hiccup opened his album from Romania. It was a spiteful move because Hiccup was imagining Astrid looking at these photos of him – his own partying pictures, his own _arm candy_. He flipped through the pictures until he found Kasha, wildly curling dark hair caught in the wind off the Black Sea, grey eyes sultry inside smoky black liner.

Hiccup still didn't know what Kasha saw in him. If he had to guess, it was an easy green card. Their…_relationship_ had moved too quickly, rapidly from sweet smiles on the beach to his bed in the hostel. Rapidly from the bed to conversations in broken English about where he was from and how much she's always wanted to go there. She wanted to go to _Berk_. But of course she didn't want to go to _Berk_; she wanted to leave Romania. She wanted a new life. Hiccup wasn't a complete idiot.

Thinking about Kasha wasn't exactly helping anything because now Hiccup was remembering how empty that had been, how he couldn't stop comparing what he and Kasha had to what he and Astrid had. What he'd given up. Maybe that was when it had happened. Maybe that was the beginning of the end for Hiccup, Kasha had started the end of it all.

He'd left Romania; he couldn't leave fast enough once he realized what Kasha wanted from him. He'd gone to France and tried to forget _everything_. Then he'd had an epiphany as he stood alone in a hotel room with one of the best views in Paris. He couldn't help thinking about how much Astrid would have liked the view. He couldn't help thinking about being in Paris with Astrid. He couldn't stop thinking about Astrid. He'd bought a ticket home that day.

Hiccup closed his laptop and stared out the window. Big, thick flakes of snow had started to fall. He'd been home for a month with no sign of Astrid, no hint that she was even considering coming home. And why would she if she had some hulking Brit to keep her warm? Maybe she was in Paris now, with someone else. It was Christmas Eve and Astrid wasn't in Berk. Her mother must be furious.

Hiccup was on his feet before he could think about it because sitting in his bedroom, alone on Christmas Eve, thinking about his ex-girlfriend wasn't exactly healthy behaviour. Toothless raised his head and Hiccup nodded at the dog and they were both headed down the stairs and out the front door. It was colder than Hiccup had anticipated and he jammed his hands into his coat pockets, hands curled into tight fists. Toothless padded along beside him, silent and stealthy as always, black as pitch against the whiteness of the fallen snow. Hiccup didn't know where he was going, but he had to get away from his laptop. He had to get away from his phone. From his life.

The streets of Berk were empty. Of course they were empty. It was late in the night on Christmas Eve. People were with their families, warm by the fire, cozy by the tree. Hiccup and Stoick didn't have a tree this year. Their presents to each other weren't things that could be wrapped. There was nothing Christmassy in the Haddock household. Hell, Stoick wasn't even home. There was some event at the hospital, something involving the pediatric wing, something that required the mayor of Berk to be in attendance on Christmas Eve instead of being home with his only son. Even though Hiccup knew it was petty and selfish and _horrible_, he resented those kids. He resented anyone who took up Stoick's attention. He resented himself for resenting small children. It was ridiculous.

Hiccup walked without reason or purpose. He walked through the empty streets, heavy snowflakes resting in his hair, on his shoulders, biting into his cheeks. He walked until he found himself standing in front of Raven's Point, Berk's only fine dining restaurant. How many times had he brought Astrid here? Every anniversary, every time something good happened. The last time he'd brought her here was when he'd purchased his ticket to Nepal.

Hiccup pressed his naked palm against the frigid glass. "What an idiot," he muttered to himself.

If he had been paying any attention to her at all, he would have realized that she wasn't happy for him. She'd been pretending. It was almost like she'd known what was coming. They'd broken up a week later.

Toothless whined from beside him and nosed his free hand in his pocket. Absently, Hiccup pulled his hand out and stroked the dog's head. Toothless pulled out of his grip, dancing away playfully.

"Toothless, what—"

The words died on his tongue as her turned away from the window and saw that he wasn't alone in the street anymore. Coming down the street, away from the bus station, dragging luggage behind her was Astrid. Toothless shot down the street and Hiccup could hear her laughter echoing through the empty street, bouncing off store windows. His smile was involuntary. His heart was pounding, the blood pulsing through his eardrums. _Astrid_. And not on the arm of a hulking British man, either. Just _Astrid_.

Hiccup couldn't move – he watched as Toothless practically mauled Astrid with sloppy dog kisses; he listened as she murmured her greeting to him. It was simple for Toothless. She was Astrid and he loved her. God, Hiccup wished it could be that simple for him. He wished he could run down the street and hold her and all would be forgiven, but that's not how it worked. Eventually, Toothless backed down and Astrid stood up and looked at Hiccup. He couldn't see her face in the dark from this distance. It occurred to him that maybe she wouldn't want to see him. Maybe she wanted to forget about Hiccup, forget about all they'd ever had, all he'd thrown away.

She started walking toward him and Hiccup found he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything. Toothless bounded between them, tongue lolling, the occasional happy bark escaping. Astrid paused a few feet in front of Hiccup and he couldn't help but notice the rosy hue the cold had lent her nose and cheeks. Her hands were covered by pale blue mittens, her hat matched, even if it was a little too big for her head. Beneath her hat, her hair was loose. Hiccup loved it when her hair was loose, the way it cascaded over her shoulders, smooth and silken. He wanted to touch it now, even with his frozen fingers.

Astrid offered him a tentative, small smile. "Hey, Hiccup."

Hiccup smiled and huffed. "Hi, As."

The smile stayed on her lips, but Hiccup could tell that it wasn't quite genuine. No, that wasn't fair. It was cautious, wary.

"Back from your great journey?" she asked lightly, cocking her head.

He'd never wanted to kiss her more than he did in that moment. But he'd forfeited that right. Hiccup's smile wavered and he stared at his feet, shaking his head before raising his gaze to meet hers. "I could ask you the same."

"Life's a journey, Haddock," she said, grinning. She reached out and knocked her fist lightly against his shoulder, her eyes searching his face, her smile retreating ever so slightly. "I hope you found what you were looking for out there."

At this Hiccup barked out a dry laugh and smiled widely, biting his bottom lip. He was a Grade A moron to have let her slip through his fingers. He really was. Concern crossed her features, her smile falling away.

"What?" she whispered.

"Well, that's the thing, As," he paused to shrug, "I think it was here all along."

It was Astrid's turned to bark out a laugh, whipping her head back and shaking it before turning her eyes back to him, the first genuine smile she'd had all night toying at her lips. "Didn't I tell you that?"

Hiccup pressed his palm against his heart. "You said it was in here."

Astrid raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"You were right," he conceded.

"Ha!" Astrid said, pointing at him and looking around for witnesses. She narrowed her eyes at him, a smirk on her lips. "Of course you say that when there's no one around to hear it."

Hiccup rolled his shoulders in a way he hadn't in almost a year. "Plausible deniability."

Astrid shook her head, chuckling and taking a loose step toward him. "You never change, Haddock."

"Neither do you."

Astrid's eyes fluttered to his lips and back up to his eyes again. "It's good to see you."

Hiccup smiled, real and solid. He reached up without thinking, tucking her hair behind her ear, under her hat. "You too, As."

Hiccup's smile fell away as he pulled his hand away from her face, his eyes locked on her big eyes and sweet, pink nose. "I was stupid, huh?"

"What?"

"We had something real and I just," Hiccup paused to shake his head in absolute disbelief, "_threw_ it away."

"Hiccup—"

He bent down and kissed her cheek, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her into him. His eyes rolled shut as he breathed in the scent of her – shampoo and laundry detergent and _Astrid_. He'd never have this again. He didn't deserve this now.

Pressing his cheek into hers, his lips skirting her ear, he whispered, "I love you, As. Always have. I was just too stupid to realize it."

He pulled back and drank in her face, confused in the lamplight, billowing puffs of steam escaping her lips with each hurried breath.

"Merry Christmas."

Hiccup clicked his tongue and Toothless joined his side, looking back at Astrid as they walked past her and further down the empty street.

"That's it?" she called after him, voice high-pitched and tinged with fury.

Hiccup froze and turned back to her. She had her back to him, her hands balled into fists at her side.

"Astrid?"

She turned around, brow furrowed and lips pursed. "You just get to show up and tell me you _love me_? You get to leave and you get to come back and just—"

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up," she spat, "You don't get to interrupt me."

Hiccup bit his lip and stared at her. She stalked toward him and jammed her mittened hand into his chest. "What if I don't want your love?"

Hiccup's eyes widened. "I wouldn't expect you to. I—"

"Why would you tell me that? What do you want from me, Hiccup?"

Hiccup shook his head. "Nothing, As. I just—It had to be said."

Astrid's furious face crumpled a little. "Why?"

"Because I never told you. Because I'm an idiot and I _lost_ you. Because…_because_, As," Hiccup sighed, shrugging,

Astrid raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Because?"

Hiccup shrugged again, nervously. "Because. Listen, As, I don't want anything from you. I just want you to be happy. And I hope that one day I can be happy, too. Someday."

Astrid snorted and crossed her arms. Hiccup frowned at her.

"You _are_ an idiot. And you don't deserve a second chance."

Hiccup opened his mouth to protest the mythical second chance, but then promptly closed it because what was she _saying_?

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" he heard himself say, stupidly.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" Astrid hissed back, arms uncrossing and furiously gesturing at him.

They stared at each other for a second before the laughter started – both of them were _laughing_, the sound echoing back at them in the empty street. Hiccup shook his head, still laughing. Astrid's hand was on his arm and she was so perfect and near and marvellous.

"I don't have a girlfriend," he said.

"Good."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I don't have a girlfriend either."

"Astrid, you know what I meant."

"I do. And it's none of your business." Her tone held a serious note, but the grin on her face was playful.

Hiccup smiled slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?"  
>"Okay. You don't have to tell me. I get it. Just—As, can we—"<p>

"I'm guessing your dad's not home?" she asked, turning from him and grabbing the handle of her luggage, glancing back over her shoulder, "That's why you're wandering the streets of Berk on Christmas Eve."

Hiccup smiled, a tiny half-smile. "You guessed correctly, milady."

"Well," she sighed dramatically, holding out her free hand, "You better walk me home then. Maybe there'll be a warm chocolate chip cookie in it for you."

He grinned at her, his eyes locked on her proffered hand, knowing that whatever this was, it wasn't _fixed_. They were a long way from being _fixed_. But it was a start, wasn't it? It was a goddamn Christmas miracle. Astrid gave her hand an impatient shake and glanced over her shoulder at him, just barely self-conscious.

"Well?"

"Coming."

Hiccup's hand closed around hers without any hesitation.


	2. What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

_AN: Happy New Year! Be safe and have a great night._

"What are you doing New Year's Eve?"

The question had sounded so trite on his tongue when he'd asked it, standing there in the snow, barely holding her cold fingers in his own. Still, he'd _hoped_. Hiccup didn't even know what he was hoping for, really. He didn't have a right to hope for anything with Astrid; the few days he'd shared with her since Christmas Eve had been a gift, a treasure. A short-lived reprieve. He kept expecting it to end at any given point. He kept expecting her giant, British boyfriend to materialize in Berk and ruin the hard-earned second chance he was working toward. He kept expecting the inevitable explosion.

But it hadn't come and he'd asked the question.

Astrid had blinked at him, her eyebrows jolting up in surprise, crisp, blue eyes darting away as she mentally ran through her schedule. Then she'd squeezed his fingers, shrugged her shoulders and smiled at him.

"Nothing."

Hiccup had taken it as a sign - a big, glaring sign that he should _try_; that he should _keep_ trying. Because he loved her and every single moment he spent with her only magnified that truth. He loved her. He always, always had.

He cupped her cold hand in both of his, the dogs circling around their feet anxiously in the snow. "My dad has that gala thing," he said with a lopsided, nervous grin.

Astrid had grinned back. "Mmhmm?"

"You wanna go?"

Astrid's smile was like a brilliant sunrise, a bright, piercing thing that hit him straight in the heart. "Okay."

Hiccup had gone home in a daze, half-running, half-tripping. Because this _was_ a second chance wasn't it? The pounding heart, the nervous flipping of his stomach, the incessant, face-hurting smiles. Astrid. It was all Astrid, all over again and she was letting him _try_. Even if she had a thug British boyfriend (a fact that had neither been confirmed nor denied nor even _discussed_), she was giving Hiccup another chance.

His father had been delighted by the news that his long lost son had finally deigned his yearly gala worthy of his attendance, putting in the rush order for a rental tux while Hiccup was standing in the kitchen. He chortled and talked over Hiccup the entire time.

"I'll get your ticket and we'll seat you at the Jorgensen's table, of course. And—"

"Dad, I need two tickets."

Stoick had frozen, head tilted comically, red beard glistening in the halogen lights of the kitchen. "Two?"

"Yeah, I'm, uh, I'm bringing Astrid," Hiccuo mumbled.

Stoick's eyebrows shot up and Hiccup winced. His father had taken their breakup very, very poorly. In fact, it was a major point of consternation between them on a continual basis. Stoick had a very high regard for Astrid. Sometimes Hiccup was sure it was higher than his regard for his own son.

"Astrid?" Stoick said.

Hiccup rolled his eyes at his father's feigned disinterest. "Yes. Astrid."

"I didn't know you were back together."

"We're not," Hiccup said automatically, his face flushing red as he fumbled onward, "I mean, not _yet_. I, um, anyway. Yeah."

Stoick laughed, a slow, steady rumble that made Hiccup flush again. He waited for the unavoidable 'I told you so' from his father, but it never came. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Hiccup looked up at his dad, who was grinning at him.

"Good luck, son."

Hiccup fought back the scowl that threatened on his lips. "Thanks," he muttered.

Stoick beamed at him before grabbing his drink and heading out of the kitchen. The fact that he hadn't said anything further bothered Hiccup more than he wanted to admit because it only meant that there was more to come.

Still. He had a _date_ with Astrid. He supposed it wasn't strictly considered a date, not any more than any of their conveniently timed meetings at the dog park, or their long, laughing chats at Starbucks. They hadn't talked about it, but their fingers always ended up entwined. They also hadn't talked about either of their trips. They also hadn't kissed. The truth was that Hiccup was almost afraid to try lest it break the spell that they were under.

oOoOoOo

New Year's Eve in Berk was certainly livelier than Christmas Eve. Hiccup was starting to second guess his decision to walk to Astrid's in his rented tuxedo and the dress shoe that had just as little traction on the sole as his prosthetic. In addition to trying not to break his neck, he also had to dodge well-wishers and curious eyes. Hiccup snorted to himself. He'd had an easier time trekking through the Himalayas than he was having trying to get to his ex-girlfriend's house.

Ex-girlfriend. The more time he spent with Astrid, the less she felt like an ex anything. In fact, Hiccup had never referred to her either verbally or in his own mind as his ex-girlfriend until he came back to Berk. She'd always been Astrid; she'd always transcended any label. Somehow his brain had decided that their break up – permanent and real as it had been – was simply a temporary state of being. Their separation was never meant to last; how could it? And even though Hiccup knew very well that it_ could_ last, that Astrid _could_ have a boyfriend across the Atlantic, he didn't really care. Because he had the Astrid of _now_, if even for a few hours. Tonight she was his. He just had to focus on making that last.

Hiccup drew in a shaking breath and rubbed his cold hands together when he arrived at the edge of her walk. The door of the Hofferson house was brightly lit, a tastefully decorated, classic wreath hanging from the door, garland lit around the entranceway. It was warm; inviting. Standing there he could almost pretend that the past year and a half had never happened. That nothing had changed even though everything had changed.

He walked up the pathway and pressed the doorbell, his heart jumping with the sound of the chime echoing through the front windows. He could just barely hear Mrs. Hofferson shouting up to Astrid before she pulled open the door and positively beamed at Hiccup.

"Hiccup! It's so good to see you, honey. Come in, come in! Astrid will be down in a minute."

And it was every single high school date, every time he'd showed up at her door with his heart on his sleeve. Nothing had changed even though everything had changed. Hiccup leaned in and kissed Mrs. Hofferson on the cheek. She flushed delightedly as she always had.

"It's been a long time," he offered.

"Too long, I'd say! Both of you running off at the first sign of adversity."

"Well, that's not exactly—"

Mrs. Hofferson scoffed and playfully smacked Hiccup's arm. "Don't argue with me. I'm a mother. I _see_ things, Hiccup Haddock. Now you're both back in Berk and I'm _hoping_ you're both going to stay. And I'm hoping you'll stay _together_ this time—"

"Mom!"

Hiccup's gaze jumped up the staircase at the sound of Astrid's irritated bellow. His lips twitched up into a grin before he even had a chance to register it. Astrid was the very picture of holiday perfection, her hair swept up in an intricate series of braids that looped and piled onto one another, her face just barely accented with makeup in a way that made every feature gleam, and she was dressed in a long strapless gown that shimmered blue when the light hit it the right way. A smile tugged at her lips when she caught Hiccup's gaze.

Astrid came down the stairs, her eyes never leaving Hiccup's, moving with a grace of which Hiccup had always been envious. He met her at the landing near the bottom and reached for her hand.

"You look wonderful," he mumbled.

Astrid's smile grew wider. "You don't look too bad yourself, Haddock."

There was a sniffle from behind Hiccup and Astrid's smile slid away as she rolled her eyes, wrenching her hand out of Hiccup's and coming down the final few steps.

"Just _stop_, Mom. Jesus."

"I can't help it. You know you two are better together."

"We're not together!" Astrid spat.

The whole room seemed to freeze as soon as the words had exited her mouth. Hiccup knew this. They _weren't_ together. There was nothing false in what she'd said, but there was something about the direct vehemence with which she said it that stung. It was a stark reminder to Hiccup that he needed to pull his head out of the clouds. Astrid's eyes worriedly met his and then darted away again as she straightened her back and lifted her chin.

_Okay_, Hiccup thought, _so she's not going to take it back_. And that was fine. Of course it was fine. Why should she? They _weren't_ together. Yet. Hiccup had to hold onto that glaring _yet_. It was his last lifeline; his only chance. Because all those responsibilities and expectations that had seemed so heavy before he'd gone away – his dad watching them from the doorway; her mom making comment after comment about their impending marriage – they seemed like nothing now. They seemed _right_ now.

"Astrid, you should apologize to Hiccup," her mother said in a tone that Hiccup knew all too well. If he didn't get Astrid out of here _now_, he was going to witness yet another famous Hofferson verbal brawl.

"Why should I—"

"Astrid, we should go," Hiccup interrupted, "We don't want to be those people who sneak in late and step on other people's toes. Especially me with my peg leg," he continued nervously, shaking his prosthetic at her, "It could hurt."

Astrid turned her impressive frown onto him and Hiccup offered her what he hoped was a completely unassuming smile. This wasn't the first time he'd pulled her out of a fight, especially one with her mother. She released a long breath and her face softened slightly.

"Fine. Let me get my coat," she said, sparing a glare toward her mother.

Then they were outside in the crisp night air, Astrid walking just that little bit too fast for Hiccup.

"As," he called after her, "As!"

She came to a dead stop at the end of her walk and spun. "Where's your car?"

Hiccup's hurried steps came to a sliding stop with Astrid's hand reaching out to steady his shoulder and keep him from toppling over altogether. It was such a common, familiar action that they both ended up tentatively grinning.

"Your car?" Astrid repeated.

"Um. I thought we could walk."

"Walk?" Astrid said, eyebrows high in disbelief, "In sub-zero temperatures on New Year's Eve?"

"Yeah, you know, a brusque walk through Berk."

"In my heels? In the snow?"

Hiccup swallowed and shrugged. "Yeah?"

Astrid stared at him before bursting out into laughter. "You're," she said, gasping between laughs, "You're an idiot!"

Hiccup laughed with her, a natural reaction that had been years and years in the making.

"Okay," Astrid said, grinning, "We'll walk."

She looped her arm through his and they started a considerably slower stroll down the street, Astrid occasionally kicking chunks of snow out from her toes and Hiccup sporadically sliding on patches of ice. They laughed each time, leaning far closer into each other than was really necessary. It was in a lull, just steps from The Great Hall, where the gala was held each year, that Astrid gripped his arm a little tighter and stalled their walk. She turned to face him, her expression serious and her eyes darting all around his face. Hiccup knew this look, this nervous, _guilty_ look.

"Hiccup, I—"

"As, it's fine."

Her eyes met his, her lips parted slightly. Even though he knew he had no right, Hiccup thought about kissing her then. Astrid who wasn't his anymore.

"It's not fine. I was just mad, you know. It's that summer after grad all over again when everyone just expected us to get married and have two point five kids and a picket fence."

"Astrid," Hiccup said softly, reaching for her gloved hands and looking down at his thumb rubbing across her fingers. He shrugged at her, his eyes meeting hers again. "It's _fine_. Really. Let's just have a good time tonight."

Astrid stared at him, head tilted. "And worry about the consequences next year?"

"Exactly," Hiccup replied, grinning broadly. He pushed open the door and held it for her, "After you, milady."

Astrid finally gave him a brief smile and stepped through the door, pausing for Hiccup to rejoin her. She was looking up at the ornate, domed ceiling of the lobby, a look of bedazzlement in her eyes.

"I've always wanted to come to this gala," she sighed.

Hiccup started, looking at her profile. "You did?"

"Yep," she sighed, grinning at him, "I was always expecting you to ask me."

Hiccup was surprised by her admission. He had always viewed the Mayor's New Year's Eve Gala as their chance to be alone and uninterrupted, without half of Berk watching their every move. To Hiccup, New Year's Eve had always been about Astrid. He'd never even considered that she might have wanted to attend the gala. Astrid's laughter knocked him out of his reverie.

"You should see your face."

Hiccup frowned at her, but it was the kind of frown that begged to be flipped upside down. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her into him. "Come here, you."

His face was inches from hers, their noses almost touching, when he remembered himself. When he remembered that he couldn't just grab Astrid and kiss her, that she wasn't his to just _manhandle_. His eyes fell to her lips – barely parted and shining – and then darted up to her widened eyes. His grip loosened and he pulled back, releasing his grip on her entirely.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, Astrid. I shouldn't have done that," he said hurriedly, shrugging his shoulders and staring at her pale toes.

The silence stretched on as Hiccup focused on the pale blue nail polish on her toenails. This was it. This was how his second chance would end: with a too-soon attempted kiss. This is how he'd lose Astrid all over again. He glanced up at her, expecting her angry glare, but instead she was watching him with a furrowed brow.

"Why not?" she whispered.

A thousand witty retorts lingered on his tongue, but he bit them all back. He shrugged dejectedly as a thunderous applause leaked through the closed doors of the gala. They were late. Of course they were late. Hiccup was perpetually late. Hell, he was late to figuring out his own goddamn heart.

"Do you want a list?" he muttered.

"Yes."

He looked up and saw her standing there, arms crossed and utterly gorgeous. She was also completely serious.

"I am an idiot."

Astrid smirked. "That's one."

Hiccup conceded to a hint of a smile. "It's probably the most important one."

Astrid nodded in agreement. "Probably."

Then she reached out, her fingers catching his. "I missed you," she whispered.

Hiccup curled his hand around hers and squeezed lightly. "I missed you, too. Look, Astrid, I know you probably have a life back in England and I know I'm asking a lot, but—"

Astrid watched him expectantly. "But?"

"But, can we start over?"

Astrid's eyes flicked between his, her mouth in a straight, unreadable line. Hiccup's heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest, squeezing and slamming in turn as she considered his words. Astrid sighed with finality and shook her head at him slowly.

"No."

And there it was, the inevitable explosion. Almost instantly Hiccup was cursing his need to rush forward with things, to ask before he knew her heart. He'd been wrapped up in himself again.

Still, their hands were touching.

"But," she said softly, "You can ask me again next year."

Hiccup's breath caught in his throat as he stared at her, at the tiny smile on her lips, at the brightness in her eyes.

"Isn't the New Year all about fresh beginnings?" she asked, shrugging, "Now take me to this gala, Haddock. I've had _years_ of anticipation."

Hiccup nodded, his smile infectiously spreading across his face. In a few hours, he'd ask her again and hope that her answer had changed. Maybe it won't have, but then again maybe it will. One thing Hiccup knew for sure was that he had to _try_.

He held open the door to the banquet hall and bowed slightly,

"As you wish, milady."


End file.
